Hopping for Our Lives
by ThePro-LifeCatholic
Summary: Jack Harkness has successfully pulled off many cons before meeting the Doctor, with the occasional slip-up happening during (or because of) the con. Years after one such slip-up, Jack is confronted by an alien billionaire who was on the receiving end of this mistake. But this billionaire knows things he shouldn't, and the Doctor and Rose showing up may only make matters much worse.
1. Ice Cream and Tourists

**I had this all planned out.**

 **I was going to start posting** _ **Ctrl + C**_ **as my next Doctor Who ficlet, followed by…well…the one that I was planning on posting after that one was written. And a third one would follow that one (sorry, guys; didn't want to give away any unnecessary spoilers!).**

…

 **And then…**

 **This happened.**

 **This idea for a fanfiction story popped into my head, and I couldn't get rid of it. So now I'm bouncing back into the past of Doctor Who…into the brilliant era known as "Nine, Rose, and Captain Jack Harkness" (or, the original "Power of Three").**

 **The main idea for this fic stemmed out of Ten's remark about "hopping for their lives" after he's newly regenerated and trying to convince Rose that he's still the Doctor.**

 **I will also be introducing several OCs who will be tying this story to** _ **Room Service**_ **, as well as to the three DW fanfiction works that I haven't written yet.**

 **Anyhoo, without further ado, I now present to you:**

 _ **Hopping for Our Lives.**_

 **God bless and have a great day (or night)!**

 **ThePro-LifeCatholic**

* * *

 **Disclaimer: I don't own Doctor Who. I own any OCs and/or made-up planets. If I happened to own Doctor Who or BBC, there would be Wholock by now. That, or Nine would've gotten into the 50** **th** **somehow (or, at least, more so than what the 50** **th** **showed of him). Or both. But I don't, so there you go. *shrugs***

* * *

"We ready?"

A man in black pants, dark green shirt, and black leather jacket looked expectantly over his shoulder. He had a short, strong build; a firm jaw, large ears and nose, and sparking blue eyes. He was standing in the doorframe of a blue wooden box, which was parked in the space between two small storefronts.

"Doctor, would you believe me if I told you I've been waiting for you two beauties to get ready so we could leave?" a man answered the question put to him. He was taller than the Doctor, and was sporting navy blue pants (with a matching jacket), white shirt, and well-polished black boots. His dark brown hair had been smoothed down.

"No, I wouldn't," the Doctor responded, turning to the world outside the wooden doors. "'Cause you got up and dressed only seven or ten minutes ago."

"And how would you know that?" the other man retorted obstinately.

"I heard the shower going, Jack." The Doctor rolled his eyes. "And I just finished clearing away your breakfast dishes. Coffee still in your cup – not even half-emptied – so you couldn't have been up for very long."

"Oh," was all that Jack could respond.

"Alright you two," a blond-haired girl broke into the conversation. "I'm goin' out there, and if you two want to argue about who-woke-up-when, then have at it. I'm certainly not gonna stop you." With this, she side-stepped the Doctor and Jack, disappearing outside. The two men glanced at each other, then followed the girl.

"We weren't arguing, Rose," the Doctor commented, shutting the doors behind him and locking them with a key.

"Yeah, sure. So what were you doin' then, huh?" She grinned when she got no response, her tongue sticking out between her teeth. Despite himself, Jack smiled, deep dimples appearing in his cheeks. The Doctor sighed, but the ends of his mouth twitched upward. He jumped to the front of the line, quickly taking the lead.

"Here we are, Jack and Rose!" He flung his arms out, rocking back on his heels. "Welcome to Fizon!"

Rose looked around. A sapphire sky stretched overhead, and thin clouds like white taffy were inching their way through the endless blue. Beneath her feet was a cobblestone road, but not any cobblestone road, no. This was an alien road. Trees and bushes lined the street-sides, and the road was full of life. To-and-fro creatures skittered. Some were talking on phone-like devices, others were talking amongst themselves. Some were walking quickly to unknown destinations, not taking any interest in the throngs around them.

"Not too different from Earth, really," Jack was saying, taking in his surroundings. "I've been here once or twice, actually. What year is this, Doctor?"

"We're in the year 7645," the Doctor informed Captain Harkness. He had his hands shoved in the pockets of his leather jacket, and was surveying the assortment of faces that was passing them by. Almost directly across from the odd trio, a male and female (couple?) were snapping photos of everything in sight.

"Tourists," the Doctor muttered. "Beautiful. Just what we needed. A couple of nutters to ruin our otherwise perfect day."

"No, I didn't come this year," Jack commented thoughtfully. "It was 7620-something-or-other."

"What were you doin' here?" Rose wanted to know.

"Well, I told you and the Doctor that I was a con-man, and I made my living selling out on Time Agents," Jack explained. "I mostly stuck to Earth, but as humans spread out across the universe, Time Agents went with them. And off-and-on, I would have a Time-Vortex Manipulator, which let me jump around in time."

"Now where would you get a Time-Vortex Manipulator?" the Doctor asked (somewhat sternly).

"I was conning Time Agents," Jack said, throwing his hands out. "Where else do you think I got it from? Anyway, long story short, I came here sometime in the 7620s, with some space junk. A Time Agent found it, and we went through the whole deal. There was a tiny slip-up, though," Jack recalled, chuckling nervously. "I misjudged the angle that the junk was coming in from, and it took off the side of a house."

"What?!" Rose and the Doctor simultaneously exclaimed. Several passing pedestrians jumped, startled by the sudden outburst.

"It was all straightened out," Captain Jack assured them. "I didn't get framed for it, and the house belonged to this really rich guy. Can't remember the name, but he was mentioned a lot by the locals."

"I've only been to this planet once or twice, so I wouldn't know either," the Doctor admitted. "Now, are we gonna muck around or are we gonna try out that ice-cream shop that Rose has been dying to visit for the past five adventures?"

"It wasn't five," Rose retorted. "And 'sides, it was your fault for bringing it up in the first place!"

The trio moved off, talking and laughing. Examining their pictures, the couple watched them mingle with the crowd and vanish from sight. They moved quickly down the road, in the opposite direction of the Doctor and his companions.

* * *

 _About an hour later…_

The male and female were standing in front of a dark green door. It was smooth and cold to the touch, very similar to glass. An elaborate knocker was fixed on the center of the door, but neither alien tried to use it.

"We shouldn't have come, Trung," the female murmured, shifting her weight uncomfortably and straightening out her outlandishly bright, neon-purple dress. Blue hair fell past her waist, and small antennae twitched on her head.

"It'll be fine, Rea," the other assured her, rubbing his pink-tinted arms down her back. "Think about the reward he's promised us. We'll be able to finally pay off the house!" He smoothed down his neon-blue shirt. "Once we show him this," he said, holding up the cameras, "he'll give us our due, and then we're outta here."

As if by an unheard signal, the green doors swung open with a quiet moan.

"You may enter," a thin female voice declared from within.

Rea and Trung paused on the threshold, looking in. It was a spacious room that greeted them; the walls and floor were dark in color. A desk stood in the middle of the room, dominating the entire space and grabbing one's attention immediately. A chair had been placed on either side of it. The seat facing the door was occupied by a man. He glanced up from a stack of papers, examining them with a scrutinizing glare.

"Come in," he called softly.

Trung squeezed Rea's hand, and they crept warily into the room. Their footsteps creaked on the wooden floor. Right next to the door they saw another desk, much smaller, with a women sitting behind it. She was wearing a tight-fitting white dress, and her silver-streaked hair was pulled up into a knotted bun. She glanced up at them with dull, purple-gray eyes; eyes that shifted to-and-fro constantly. Then she bent back over her work, typing out messages of some kind on a flat, transparent keyboard.

Trung and Rea moved to the escritoire in the center of the room. The man in the chair was dressed in darker hues of blue, purple, and red. It certainly was expensive-looking attire, but then again, everything he owned was expensive. He now turned his attention to the two quivering aliens, rubbing pale hands together.

"Let's see what you have," he commanded in a soft voice. Dark, beady eyes fixed themselves on the cameras. "Nari!" he barked, causing Trung and Rea to jump.

"Yes, sir?" The woman behind the desk shot out of her seat and stood at attention. Standing there, her demeanor wasn't unlike that of some wild animal, on the alert for an approaching predator. She was tense, as if ready to bolt at any given moment.

"Take these," her boss explained, handing over the cameras, "and upload the photographs for me."

Ms. Nari took them and clicked out of the room hurriedly. The male rested his dark eyes on the couple in front of him. They could see his face clearly; thin, sallow, and quite possibly the palest face they had ever seen. The cheeks were slightly sunken, and dark rings were clearly visible beneath the eyes. Their pink skin and bright clothing clashed severely with this man's style and appearance.

"So…finally working for an Edwatte, are you?" he asked. His voice dripped like molasses into the silence, oozing out of his mouth and choking up the room.

"Y-yes, sir, I suppose we are," Trung stuttered. Rea was too shaken to say anything. Edwatte went back to staring at the papers on his desk, leaving the two aliens to stand awkwardly in laconism. He didn't offer them a seat, and seeing as there was only one other chair, Trung and Rea were obliged to stay on their feet.

"Here you are, Sir." Nari's paper-thin voice sliced through the awkward silence. Edwatte snatched the papers from her shaking hands. As he looked them over, he waved his hand dismissively.

"Show them out, Nari," he muttered, tracing the outline of the figures on the photographs. "Make sure they get their payment."

"Yes, Sir." Nari motioned to Trung and Rea, who followed her out quickly. They were all-too-happy to be leaving the suffocating atmosphere of the small room.

"You wouldn't happen to have experience in abduction, would you?" Edwatte called after them.

"What?" Trung wasn't sure he had heard the man correctly. "No; no, of course not."

"Hm," Edwatte grunted. When he didn't say or do anything else, the trio took their leave. Edwatte examined the photos, brushing violet-dyed hair out of his eyes.

"Seems I have you at last, _Mr. Jack,_ " he hissed, stabbing a pen through one of the photographs.

* * *

 **So…here we go! The adventure begins! I'm excited for this story, and since I already have most of** _ **Ctrl + C**_ **already typed up, maybe I can start posting that one too…**

 **I don't know. I'll think on it. In the meantime, hope you guys enjoy! Be sure to leave a review and let me know what you think!**


	2. Unable to Refuse

**Sooooooooooooo...for those of you who have _Netflix_ and didn't hear about the latest and best news concerning it...**

 **SEASON 8 OF _DOCTOR WHO_ IS NOW AVAILABLE ON NETFLIX.**

 **Yaaaaaaaaay!**

 **My sister and I have watched only the first three...but _Robert of Sherwood_ has clinched it for me. I loved the Doctor and Clara in that one. That episode has made me decide that 12 (or 13) is the Doctor. He can carry on the legacy, and I can't wait to see the rest of the season. **

**NO ONE TELL ME ANY SPOILERS, please.**

 **Also, I wanted to make some story suggestions. If you like the 10** **th** **Doctor, and if you don't mind Martha Jones, and you like WELL-WRITTEN angst and whump fics, then I've several stories that I know you'll love:**

 _ **Running on Adrenalin**_ **and** _ **Almost Icarus**_ **, both written by** **ellijay** **. Another one that I greatly appreciated is** _ **Hollow World**_ **by** **Veldeia** **.**

 **So there you go. Wonderful stories to keep you occupied while waiting for my own weekly updates. Be sure to leave reviews for those stories; they seriously deserve them.**

 **God bless and have a great day (or night)!**

 **ThePro-LifeCatholic**

* * *

 **Disclaimer: I still don't own Doctor Who (or, at least, I didn't the last time I checked). Wait, let me double-check…nope. I don't. OK, then.**

* * *

Jack, Rose, and the Doctor exited the small ice-cream shop and strolled down the sidewalk. Aliens passed by on either side, jostling them to-and-fro.

"Try this, Rose," the Doctor suddenly demanded, thrusting his spoon into her face.

"Oi, watch it!" she exclaimed, leaning back. "You almost got that on my face." But she opened her mouth obediently, like a baby animal waiting to be fed. The Doctor popped the spoonful of ice cream into her mouth and watched as she let it melt in her mouth.

"Mmmm…" she sighed and swallowed. "Is that banana sauce?"

"Yep," the Doctor affirmed.

"Oh my gosh, it tastes _just_ like real bananas!" Rose exclaimed. "I mean, usually banana-flavored things taste sort of fake, you know? But that, that is like eatin' melted bananas. It's gorgeous. I can see why you love that place."

"I never said I loved it," the Doctor retorted, taking another huge bite of his sweet treat. "But I can probably arrange another time to stop by."

"Oh, yes!" Rose burst out.

"I second that," Jack stated. He took a big slurp from his ice cream soda. "Next time, though, you guys can pay for your own food."

"I don't carry money," the Doctor replied.

"I have money," Rose explained. "Problem is, I don't have credits. I don't think 21st century-London currency would help much here."

"You don't even give her credits to carry around?" Jack aimed this question in the Doctor's direction.

"No point in doin' that, is there?" the Doctor argued. "I've got psychic paper and a sonic screwdriver. I've never needed money before, won't need any in the future."

"What if you get arrested and she has to bail you out?" Jack queried.

The Doctor looked incredulously at Captain Jack. "And what makes you think I'd get arrested? Where did that even come from?" He shook his head at the sorry state of his companion. Rose giggled as she listened to the two go at it again.

"Excuse me, Sir," a new voice called. Jack turned to see a young woman standing right next to him. She was a pretty thing; pale skin, a small, slender build. Her hair was a soft gold, pulled back into fat braids. The short blue dress she was wearing hugged her form, and on her feet was a pair of formal black boots. She smiled up at him, green eyes wide.

"Could you help me, Sir?" she asked sweetly. "My poor little Kraypa is stuck in the tree of my backyard, and I cannot climb up to get him down." Her lower lip quivered slightly. "My house is over there, see?"

She spun on her heel, pointing down the road a ways. Rose, the Doctor, and Jack could plainly see the pristine-white roof, the blue-painted walls. A pair of columns rose up in the doorway, a wide driveway sloped down to the edge of the road. It certainly was a grand house.

"Sure," Jack agreed with an easy smile. "Captain Jack Harkness, by the way." He stuck out his hand. The girl took it timidly in her own smooth, small palm. She blushed slightly and giggled.

"My name is Anareis," she sighed. Jack winked at her, then turned to the Doctor and Rose.

"I won't be a moment," he said. "Where are you two headed?"

"We're goin' down the street a ways," the Doctor pointed in the general direction. "Rose and I are gonna check out some shops down there."

"Right, then. See you in a bit!" Jack waved and followed Anareis towards her house. The Doctor shook his head and rolled his eyes. Rose chuckled and took his hand, dragging him in the direction of the shops.

* * *

 **Only on Chapter 2...and Jack is already flirting with people. :)**

 **By the by, I'm going to be changing my update day (most likely). I'm starting school soon, and I'm doing dual enrollment at a college. One of my days at the college is Wednesday, so I'll most likely change my update day to the weekend. I don't know for certain yet. I'll just see what the first week is like and go from there.**

PRONUNCIATION GUIDE: 

Kraypa (Kr-ey-pa) (For the most part, Kraypa is pronounced the way it's spelled)

Anareis (An-ar-ees) (you put emphasis on the "ar" part of her name)


	3. Mission Status: Complete

**Here I am…this is me…I've come to this world so wild and free…**

 **No, wait, no. Sorry! That's** _ **Spirit!**_ **But the point still stands: I've returned with another chapter!**

 **(Sorry guys, I saw the chance to make a twist on a** _ **Doctor Who**_ **quote and went for it)**

 **Anyhoo, like I just finished saying, here's the next chapter. It'll probably be a shorter one as well. I'm warming up to the main plot, which will (hopefully) be at least a bit of a shock to the readers. :)**

 **God bless and have a great day (or night)!  
ThePro-LifeCatholic**

* * *

 **I don't own Doctor Who. I own Anareis, I own Edwatte, I own Fizon, I own the Kraypa (whatever the heck that even is…I don't even know). Any original characters in this story are owned by me. Let's leave it at that, shall we?**

* * *

 **Jesuslovesmarina** **: Was that a compliment, or a correction? Darn it, I didn't mean to make it cliché. I hope I managed to keep it more original in this chapter…**

 **And yes, Edwatte is indeed an oaf. And ice cream is good. ;)**

 **ErinKenobi2893** **: ICE CREAM FOR THE WIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIN!**

 **Of course Jack's ridiculous! He's Captain Jack Harkness, fer cryin' out loud!**

* * *

"Nice place," Jack commented as they approached the house.

"Yes, thank you," Anareis replied, smiling up at him. It certainly wasn't that hard for him to make a good impression around here.

"This way," she said, breaking into his thoughts. She ran around the side of the house, crawling underneath a hollowed-out space between the green lawn and a tall white fence that surrounded the backyard. Jack squeezed in after her, nearly getting himself stuck at one point.

When he was finally through, he stood up, brushing off his clothes and hands.

"Now, where's that Kraypa?" he asked. In response to his question, the small woman pointed up at a huge tree. Its branches were knotted and broad, sticking out every which way, laden with green leaves and sweet-smelling purple flowers.

"That tree, sir…Jack." She let his name roll off her tongue and laughed. He grinned and walked over to the wide trunk. After a thorough examination, he managed to find a branch that looked sturdy enough. He couldn't get to it from the ground, but if he jumped high enough…

He crouched down, gathering momentum. Anareis watched him take a flying leap, his hands grabbing hold of the branch. She walked to the tree, placing herself directly under his dangling legs.

"All good so far," Jack called down. Seconds after this statement, his grip on the branch was lost, and he came crashing to the ground. His leg was stabbed with pain. He scrambled up, slightly confused as to how he had fallen. The answer to this unspoken question was delivered to him in a quite unexpected manner.

"Alright, Jack; not one move." Anareis' voice wasn't the soft, feminine whisper he had heard mere moments ago. A clicking noise alerted him to danger, and he warily looked over his shoulder. Anareis glared at him, mouth a straight line, hands clutching the handle of some space-blaster.

"A woman with a gun," Captain Harkness sighed. "Last time I was in a situation like this, I thought I was a goner. Never the best place to be in a relationship, but then again, I've had worse." He shrugged, raising his arms up over his head. "Although, I did get her number before she nearly killed me. So all in all, I considered it sort of a mixed message. Nearly didn't make it, though. I decided between then and now that maybe I should step up my training routine or something. Do more pushups, you know?"

Not a flicker of emotion appeared on Anareis' face. If anything, his attempt at humor was making her even more aggravated. She took several long strides, shortening the distance between them so that the barrel of the blaster nearly grazed his forehead.

"OK, then," Jack quavered. "Tough crowd."

A moment of silence, then Jack reached out, grabbing the gun firmly in his hands. With brute strength, he yanked it from her grasp and spun it expertly several times.

"Now what?" he asked, grinning cheekily. "You know, I saw this great restaurant a couple blocks down. Feelin' peckish?"

"I never needed a gun," was Anareis' reply. She planted her feet firmly on the ground, hands balling into tight fists. Eyes flashed murder as she backed up and began circling her target warily. Jack tossed the useless and unloaded blaster into the grass. The two were locked in a strange dance, never getting closer or further from each other. Talent-wise, she had him beat. However, they both knew that if it came down to a contest of strength, he would have the advantage.

And so they traveled in a broad circle, keeping a steady gaze on the other. Analyzing, trying to find any weakness, a flaw. She would feign an attack, lurching forward and leaping back. Jack movements complimented her own, sidestepping her charges. He tensed, preparing to lunge for her arms if an opportunity presented itself.

Again and again Anareis would come forward and dance away, just out of reach. First from one side, then the other. She swooped this way and that. Jack didn't take his eyes off her. He twisted and jumped, until his back brushed against the firm wooden trunk of the tree. Anareis didn't hesitate; now was her moment.

She threw herself towards Jack Harkness; the captain, however, was expecting this. His arms gripped her own, and they came to a standstill.

"Alright, Anareis," he panted. "One question: what do you want? Who sent you after me?"

The girl squirmed uncomfortably, panic mounting within her. She swallowed back her creeping fear and tried to think. Some other way out. Some other route. Large eyes darted frantically; she gulped air several times.

"Who sent you?" Jack demanded. There were no more mischievous quips. Fun time was over.

Anareis licked dry lips. "You've been wanted for several months now, Captain Jack." She paused. "You've made quite a formidable enemy here."

"Who?" The third time he pushed the question. "A straight answer, now." Jack expected another excuse, or perhaps a half-hearted escape attempt. What actually happened took him completely by surprise.

Anareis pulled herself forward, rising up on her toes. Her hands grabbed the sides of his head. At the same time, she yanked him down, and she pressed her lips against his own. Her breath came hard and hot on his neck as she smothered him with a passionate kiss. She warmed into it, eyes closing, swaying slightly in his grasp. She felt his hands loosen, his own body rocking in time with hers.

 _*CRACK*_

His head, still embraced by her hands, snapped back, striking the wood of the trunk. Jack Harkness slid to the ground in a senseless heap. His eyes were closed, mouth still partly open.

Anareis tossed her braided hair behind her shoulders. Grimacing, she rubbed her arm roughly against her mouth, as if trying to erase the kiss from her lips. She straightened out her dress. Then she bent to examine the fallen captain.

"Edwatte will be pleased indeed," she chortled. "All thanks to you, Jack. Feeling honored?"

The unconscious man didn't reply.

* * *

 **Everyone hates Jack Harkness in this story. Maybe he needs some sort of break. Or maybe he just needs a life. Anyhoo, I'm probably gonna start updating this story on Saturdays or something like that, since I'm starting school next week.**


	4. Nearly Missing the Mark

**Hello, my readers!**

 **This has been my first week at school, and it's going rather well so far. I'm figuring everything out, doing dual enrollment for the first time this year…so I'm more lost than other people going back to school this week.**

 **Hopefully, all these new things won't take away too much of my writing time. Depending on how busy my schedule is, I may end up posting updates on Sundays as opposed to Saturdays. Or, most likely of all, it will be incredibly random, but at least once a week (hopefully). Just bear with me, readers. ;)**

 **I wore my TARDIS t-shirt and earrings on the first day of class, and got several comments. I'm a happy Whovian. :)**

 **God bless and have a great day (or night)!**

 **ThePro-LifeCatholic**

* * *

 **Disclaimer: I don't own Doctor Who, nor do I own any of the characters from the show. I'm simply a Whovian trying to project her ideas to the world (unfortunately, they come a lot faster than what I can type, which is pretty fast).**

 **I own Edwatte, the girl from the past few chapters…I own the planet that they're on…yeah. Basically anything in this story that isn't canon (including the story idea itself) can be considered the product of my own imagination and creativity.**

* * *

Completely unaware of their friend's plight, Rose Tyler and the Doctor ambled up the busy road. Strong smells flooded their noses: exhaust fumes, flowering trees planted on the sidewalks, food cooking in the restaurants they passed by. Rose scraped out the last bite of ice cream, savoring the sweetness until the taste had vanished.

"That was the best," she sighed. The Doctor nodded in agreement and tossed his own empty serving cup at a nearby trash can. To his embarrassment (and Rose's amusement), the cup bounced off the edge of the waste can and bounced into the street. The blond-haired girl halted, bringing her arm back. One eye closed, she scrutinized the trash can and the distance between her and it. Then she flung her arm forward, letting her cup fly. It arched through the air, landing with a muffled "plop" in the trash can.

"Oh, yeah," she giggled, crossing her arms and grinning at her friend.

The Doctor, attempting to hide his mortification, turned away, gazing intently at a flock of birds passing overhead. He didn't have to look at Rose to know that she was doing _that_ smile at him. The one where her eyes got all squinty, and her nose wrinkled up, and her tongue poked out between her teeth. A funny expression, really, but one that he had learned to like. Even so, he couldn't let her relish in the fact that she beat him at a cup toss.

"Come on," he said gruffly, pulling her along.

They continued to stroll, hand in hand. The Doctor pointed out different shops, explaining what they sold. Whatever she wanted, where ever she wanted to go, he said. There was no immediate threat, no life-and-death matter at hand. They had all day; a whole day dedicated to nothing more than kicking back and relaxing.

"We should do this more often," Rose commented, breaking into the Doctor's winding train of thought.

"You think so?" the man in the leather jacket shook his head. "Too quiet. Couldn't spend more than a day or two like this." Rose rolled her eyes at this statement.

"More like two or three minutes," she stated. He laughed at this, the wrinkles around his eyes showing, his wide mouth pulling upward as he barked out several loud laughs. She snuggled close to him, hands wrapping around his arm. As they passed by a stand, a green-skinned creature stuck its eyestalks out at them.

"Get your daily news packet yet, Mister?" he queried in a high-pitched voice.

"No," the Doctor replied. Rose stared at the cubes stacked neatly on the surface of the stand.

"What…those are newspapers?" she asked incredulously.

"More like news holograms," the Doctor explained, picking up the cube nearest to him. "All the news for the day, or week, all wrapped up in a little case." He tossed it into the air and caught it. "You push the top of it, here," now the Doctor set the cube down and tapped the top of it, "and voila!"

A blue square appeared in the air, just above the cube. Within it, a projected image of a forest fire (or at least, that's what Rose assumed it was) could be seen.

"You swipe your hand over it," the Doctor continued, "and you can read all of the headlines. Find out what's been goin' on in the area, latest stories, breaking news, coupons; it's all here." He stood back to let Rose have a go. She swiped her hands across the image. It distorted and changed, showing her the weather report for the upcoming days.

"That's cool!" she exclaimed, brushing her hand over the image again. The Doctor crossed his arms and tapped his foot. Already, he could tell that this could be a couple of minutes. Ah, humans. It was almost impossible to please them. Show them the most mundane, normal thing, and they went off on it. A newspaper designed to fit in a smaller package? Never mind the spiraling towers or the new constellations or the alien sitting two feet away on a park bench.

"Doctor!" Rose's voice penetrated the Time Lord's thought process, snapping him to the present. He glanced her way.

"Don't tell me you want to buy one," he started.

"No, it's not that." Urgency and concern were laced through his companion's voice. He stepped closer, following her pointing finger. "Look!"

Floating on the blue screen, projected for all the world to see, was a picture of a very familiar face.

"No…can't be!" The Doctor leaned forward, peering at the image. But there was no denying it. The picture that stared back at him was definitely a profile of the dashing Captain Jack Harkness.

"What's he doin' on the newspaper?" Rose wanted to know.

"That's not the question you should be askin'," the Doctor replied. Rose turned to him with a questioning look. "Take a look at the writing."

Rose Tyler bent forward, mouthing the words to herself.

"Wanted?" she gasped. Why…why would he be wanted?" She looked from the Doctor to the surprised alien behind the stand, trying to evoke an explanation.

"I don't know," the Doctor muttered, picking up the cube. "But someone is very interested in him, at any rate." With a flick of his wrist, the Doctor zoomed in on the image. "50,000 credits, it says here. And our interested party…" he dragged his finger along the screen, "…is a mister… 'Alek'xandor Marniam Edwatte'. Who's he?"

"You don't know?!" the news-hologram seller scoffed. "Where're you from, that you don't know Edwatte?"

"Well we don't," the Doctor replied with a shrug. "But something tells me we're going to get to know him very soon." He absent-mindedly tossed the cube back to the seller. "Thanks and have a nice day!" he said with a grin. As soon as he and Rose turned to go, the smile vanished, replaced by a calculating frown.

"Think, Rose," he murmured as they walked. "What happened? When we came here 'til right now, what's gone wrong? What doesn't make sense?"

"I don't know," Rose admitted. Her lips puckered as she tried to think. "Wait. Hold on."

"What?" The Doctor looked at her expectantly.

"That girl," Rose said slowly. "The one who told Jack that her Kray…Kray…whatever, was in danger. And he just walked off with her."

The Doctor's frown deepened. Rose had a point, a very good point. The strange girl approaching them with a dilemma, just as they arrived on that planet; could it have been more than just a coincidence?

"Maybe the girl has somethin' to do with all this," Rose continued. "Maybe…if we find the girl, then we can find Jack, too."

* * *

 **Hum-dee-dum…Rose and the Doctor are gonna go find Jack now. Or at least, they're gonna try. It's the thought that counts, though. :)**

 **So…here's the chapter of the week. If I can, I'll try to post again (maybe on the weekend), but the chances of that happening are slim. SO…just hang on you guys. Another update will come (sometime).**

 **Until then, so long! And good luck to all those who have started college/dual enrollment this week. I'm praying for all of you!**

* * *

 **NOTE ABOUT PRONOUNCIATION: "** Alek'xandor" is pronounced like "Alexander", except with an "-or" sound at the end.

"Marniam" – the "-ar" part is emphasized. Other than that, it's pronounced the way it's spelled.

"Edwatte" – Pronounced how it's spelled. The "e" is silent.


	5. Gentle Persuasion

**Well…this was a lot later in coming than what I had anticipated. Hopefully, you all will find it in your hearts to forgive me.**

 **In other news, I finished season 8. I enjoyed it, but there's no way that my love of Ten is being replaced by this new-new Doctor. Sorry, all you Twelve fans; I'm a Ten-fan to the core.**

 **And I watched the new trailers for Season 9. My viewing process went a bit like this:**

*Sees Master/Missy* **:*** _ **squints***_

 **You're supposed to be DEAD.**

*Sees random aliens*:

 **OK…Hi, random aliens.**

*Sees aliens with eyes on their hands*:

 **OHMYGOSH THAT COULD TOTALLY BE A** _ **FIRES OF POMPEII**_ **CONNECTION OR REFERENCE OR SOMETHING! Speaking of which…they'd better bring Ten back if they're going to be referencing that episode…**

*Sees Missy again w/Clara*

 **Stop. Just stop. Just BE DEAD. Just stop BEING OVERUSED.**

*Sees Zygons*:

 **YEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH! ZYYYYYYYYYYYYYGONS!** _ ***waves flag***_

*Still sees Missy*

 **WWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWHYYYYYYYYYYY?!**

*Sees Doctor w/ guitar*

 _ ***smirks and chuckles***_

 **Rebel Time-Lord.**

* * *

 **AND I WATCHED** _ **LAST CHRISTMAS**_ **LAST NIGHT AND THAT EPISODE WAS SO GOOD IN SOME WAYS IN MY OPINION.**

 **I loved it when Twelve was driving the sleigh, and I loved Santa, and Clara and the Doctor's relationship…*squees***

 **God bless and have a great day (or night)!**

 **ThePro-LifeCatholic**

* * *

 **Disclaimer: I don't own Doctor Who, nor its characters, trademarks, etc. I own Anareis and Edwatte. All OCs. And the planet. Oh, just start reading already, won't you?!**

* * *

The first thing that Jack realized as he regained consciousness was a dull thudding against his skull. He squinted, flitting his eyes open. The banging persisted, growing stronger as he became more awake. Instinctively, he started to move his hand to his head, to check for an injury which he was certain was there.

It was in that attempted movement that the captain discovered that his hands were fastened securely in one place. He couldn't lift his hands more than a few inches, no matter how hard he strained. So he relaxed, trying to focus his attention on getting his other senses back online.

Sight was clearing up now; blurry smudges of color were taking on more defined shapes. In the background, a buzzing drone rose and fell. The pounding pain in his head was getting _really_ annoying now, and his sense of time had been completely thrown off-kilter. For all Jack knew, hours could have passed before he could see things relatively clearly. The buzzing too had changed, turning into two distinct voices.

"…And are you satisfied?"

"I don't know why you act so annoyed. I do this every time."

"Whatever. Sign here. Then you can go on your merry way. And thank you."

"Am I supposed to be flattered, hearing that from you?"

"Oh, look who decided to wake up."

Jack Harkness blinked several times, taking in his surroundings. He was fastened to a chair, and there was a desk in front of him. The room was small, with dark-colored walls (some color that fell between grey and really dark ivy green). There were some pictures, but he couldn't make out who or what was in them, and that wasn't the most important part of his environment. Captain Jack was having a hard enough time focusing on the two other people who were in the room with him.

The one nearest to him he knew right away.

"Anareis?"

She glanced sideways at him from where she was bending over the desk, tracing something out on a piece of paper.

"Hello, Jack," she murmured, handing the paper to the other stranger. He was someone that Jack had never seen before (or if he had, he couldn't remember it at the moment).

"Thank you again, Anareis," the man was saying. Deliberately, he picked up the paper that Anareis had just written on. He tore off a section of it and handed it to her, not breaking eye contact with her the entire time. "Enjoy, and maybe I'll be hearing from you soon."

"Whatever," she said absent-mindedly. Snatching the paper from his thin fingers, she turned on her heel. Without another word or look back, Anareis exited the room, letting the door swing slowly shut behind her.

"Just you and me, Jack Harkness," the man said, turning his full attention to the time traveler strapped in the desk chair. Jack stared back, letting the corners of his mouth turn up in a cheeky smile.

"And to whom do I owe the pleasure?" he prompted. The man looked down at him, thin locks of violet hair falling into his eyes. Scraping them back with one hand, he circled the chair that Jack was sitting in.

"Alek'xandor Marniam Edwatte." It wasn't an introduction; it was as if his name alone was supposed to convey to Jack every aspect of his personality and character. He was quite a specimen, dressed in garments that clashed with his build and appearance. Sections of his garments screamed with shimmering, uncharacteristically bright colors that sent the mind spinning; other parts of his attire were drab and…bulky, for lack of a better word. Underneath the mish-mash outfit, Jack could tell that Edwatte was thin, puny even. His face was drawn, the eyes sunken into their sockets, and shallow cheekbones. His mouth was a little too wide, his nose sort of squashed-looking. He was taller than Jack, but that was where any advantages stopped. Jack was keenly aware of who would be in charge if he wasn't restrained, and he had a feeling that this Edwatte character knew it, too.

"OK, Mr. Edwatte; still not clearing anything up for me. Mind being more specific?"

Alek'xandor ran his tongue across his lips. "Jack Harkness, you're a time agent. You've been here before. Shouldn't you know who I am?"

" _Retired_ time agent," Jack pointed out, "and I was only here one other time."

"Yes, and your con fell out, didn't it?" Edwatte leaned forward, his eyes smoldering with a small spark of excitement and delight. "I'm not sure if this is entirely appropriate, but I have to say that I admire you, Jack Harkness. I know people who have spent _years_ trying to make a living from conning acts. And here you are, so young compared to some of them, and you have perfected and profited from your cons. _Time agents,_ Jack. Who else would have thought?" He danced around the chair, biting out a sour chuckle. "I mean, I don't blame you for your choice of customers." Edwatte moved closer and tapped one finger against Jack's forehead. "If someone had stolen my memories, I would be inclined to retaliate as well."

Jack didn't answer. His smile flattened out into a straight line. A brief flash of sharp emotion passed over his face, but he quickly ground it into a blank countenance. If Alek'xandor had seen the moment of emotional vulnerability, he chose to ignore it in favor of continuing the conversation.

"And here you are now, fifteen rotations from the time you were last here. A time agent is hard to track, so thank you for making it easier by coming here freely. Did you have unfinished business, a pending contract, perhaps?"

For the first time since he woke up, Jack laughed. "Nope," he said, shaking his head. "My days of conning are over. I've changed my ways, seen the light, made the switch; whatever phrase you prefer." The captain grinned, cherishing the bewildered look that passed over his captor's face.

"Really? You were doing so well. And what caused this transformation, pray tell?"

Jack laughed again. "A girl," he said simply with a shrug. There was a beat of tense silence, finally broken by an echoing chuckle from Edwatte.

"A girl. Isn't that how the story always goes?" He shook his head, running bony fingers along the edge of the chair and across the backs of Jack's hands. "But I don't have time to hear your sob story. We have unfinished business, Jack; you and I." He leaned forward, fixing the time agent with a hungry gaze. Jack raised an eyebrow, feigning surprise.

"Wait; you're telling me you actually had a _reason_ for bringing me here? You weren't planning on proposing, were you? 'Cause I should warn you, you're not the first, and you probably won't be the last-" His flirting was brought to an abrupt halt as Alek'xandor grabbed the arms of the chair, shoving it backwards with a grunt. The wooden back smashed onto the ashen-grey tile beneath it. Jack did his best to jerk forward, but the impact of the chair against the floor snapped his head back, slamming it against a wooden surface for the second time that day.

Edwatte bent down, tilting his head to the side ever so slightly. Jack Harkness gasped involuntarily. The dull beating in his head had suddenly intensified; his vision hazed. But he was aware of pressure being applied to his chest, and Edwatte's watery eyes swam into view. His honey-coated voice dripped onto the captain's face in a breath of hot air.

"Fifteen rotations ago, a piece of property – _my property_ – was destroyed, thanks to one of your conning acts." Thin fingers danced across Jack's head, mussing his dark brown hair. "And I expect payment for the damages." Edwatte straightened and waited for some response. Jack took several breaths, willing the banging on his skull to cease, or quiet down at the very least.

"How…how much?" He asked, raising his head up. Alek'xandor smiled. Finally, a subject he was thoroughly interested in.

"I like your style, Jack Harkness. Straight to the point. I like to think that we're very alike in that way." He paused, listening to his victim breathe. This was always the make-or-break moment; a little tension never hurt anyone.

"Four hundred thousand credits."

"What?" Jack hoped he hadn't heard what he thought he had just heard.

"Four hundred thousand credits for what you did. And mind you, that's more on the minimum end of the price range." Alek'xandor inspected his nails and messed with his hair. "You were a very successful conman, and a time agent on top of that. I'm sure you were practically pulling money out of the air."

"I said already, I'm not a con, and I'm not an agent, either." Jack was growing tired of having to explain himself over and over again to people.

"So…to cut to the chase," the words came slowly, "What you're saying is that you don't have four hundred thousand credits lying around?"

"Who does?" Jack spat incredulously. "I took out the _side of a house._ There's no way it could've cost that much to fix it."

Edwatte minced over to the fallen chair, his movements accompanied by the rustling of fabric. Jack watched him approach will boiling rage, unable to do anything. The frail figure bent under the weight of the chair, locking his joints and straining his arms. His eyes nearly squinted shut; a sharp gasp escaped his mouth as the chair groaned and creaked. He managed to get the piece of furniture up in the air. He held it with shaking arms for several seconds. Then, without warning, he released his grip.

 _*Thwack*_

Another blast of pain shot through Jack's head, traveling down his nerves and spreading to the rest of his body. Edwatte jumped back to avoid getting his foot flattened. He cracked his knuckles, then stooped down again. Giving himself a moment to recover from the first attempt, he hoisted the chair halfway into the air again.

 _*THUNK*_

The heavy weight riddled the tile with minuscule cracks. Jack's mind screamed in protest as another jolt rattled his mind and joints. The pounding had become a disjointed thrum, beating some off-beat tempo that he couldn't control. Soft cloth swept over the captain's face, and a silhouette-person crouched by his head.

"I deserve my compensation," a dangerously soft voice hissed. "Please don't turn this into a personal matter, Harkness." Then the voice became a shout. Under him, Jack could feel the chair being lifted slowly. Seconds turned into hours as he was poised above the ground.

"Captain Harkness is going to stay here a bit longer than we had intended, Nari!" Edwatte called. "Prepare a room for him! And maybe a drink, too." His words dropped to a low murmur, as if he were talking to himself. "He's gonna need it."

Jack braced himself physically and mentally for the coming crash. He strove to catch the final words that slipped from Alek'xandor's mouth. It took him a minute to register that the chair was taking a plunge before blackness took over his vision and thoughts.

 _Second time again today,_ was his final silent musing. _Things never really change._

* * *

 **Ugh. Not even** _ **I**_ **like Alek'xandor Edwatte, and** _ **I**_ **was the one who made him. Oh, well. I guess when you set out to make a horrible character that no one should like, it can work on the author, too.**

 **Maybe that means I wrote him completely correctly, though…**


	6. Fear and Freedom

**Hello, my readers/favoriters/followers!**

 **I'm sorry about the (very overdue) update. I was doing school, and then Christmas break happened. I was busily focusing on a Twelve Days of Christmas prompt for** _ **Bringing the Cool**_ **, which you guys are free to check out. I'm personally very happy with how some of them turned out, especially the last one. ;)**

 **Anyhoo, here's a sort of boring-but-important-to-the-plot chapter. School started yesterday for me, so I'm not promising that I'm suddenly going to be better about updates.**

 **God bless and have a great day (or night)!  
ThePro-LifeCatholic**

* * *

 **Disclaimer: I don't own Doctor Who nor its characters. I own Anareis, Fizon, and Cryon Bands.**

* * *

Anareis was done with that day. Seeing Edwatte, let alone having to _speak_ to him, was enough to turn anyone's mood sour. If it weren't for the slip of paper clutched tightly in her hand, she wouldn't have bothered in the first place.

She unfolded the white parchment, tracing the black signature that Alek'xandor had scrawled across the bottom right corner. Then she stuffed it into a deep pocket in the front of her dress. She tripped along, weaving her way through the sparse crowds that littered the sidewalk.

Each face that passed her by she examined, more out of habit than anything else. Old, young, sour, friendly, open, masked expressions; the variety was extensive. Anareis tilted her neck back, raising her head higher and straightening her posture slightly.

 _*thunk, thunk, thunk*_

Sharp ears picked up heavy footsteps. Someone wearing boots, most likely. Behind her, heading in her direction. Pulling the paper out of her pocket, Anareis let it flutter to the ground, faking a stumble. She stooped down, grabbing it and standing up. She turned as she did so, focusing on the shapes in her peripheral view.

A man in black, with a blond-haired girl at his side. Lips pursed, she began to walk again, quickening her pace.

 _*thunk, thunk, thunk, thunk*_

As Anareis had suspected, the footsteps increased in speed. Her mind replayed the events of that day, trying to place where she had seen the couple.

"Jack Harkness," she muttered under her breath. She put two-and-two together. "Knew I'd seen those two before."

Anareis continued to flounce down the street without looking back or speeding up. Not until she reached a side road did she act. Spinning sharply on her heel, Anareis ducked down the alley-way, breaking into a run. Her footwear slapped against the cement; she grimaced when one of her shoes made contact with a puddle. The clunking of boots echoed behind her.

Anareis shot a look over her shoulder, shoving her braids out of her face. Sure enough, the stocky gentleman was in hot pursuit, his girlfriend tagging along at his heels. Biting out a curse, she took a right, disappearing down another alley. The twisting maze of backroads and narrow passages had been her home for years, and few knew its ins-and-outs as she did. It wasn't long until the following footsteps faded, growing more distant, and finally fading altogether. Casting another look back, Anareis smirked when she saw that the road behind her was devoid of any life forms. But for safety's sake, she didn't stop running until she had burst out of the narrow passage-way and onto a busy street.

Anareis skidded to a stop, panting for breath. Grabbing her braids, she undid them and let her long hair hang down her back.

"Well, now," she muttered, twisting locks of hair swiftly into tight French braids once more, "Some people still think they can pull these things off. Definitely visitors."

"Yeah," a rough, Northern-accented voice agreed. "Must be visitors."

Anareis spun around, still clutching a handful of hair in one fist. The stranger in black was standing next to her, arms crossed, relaxed. He grinned down at her, but the smile didn't reach his eyes. They were clouded over, gleaming with a cold, icy light. The girl with blond hair sidled up next to him and crossed her own arms.

"Now that we're all together," the man continued, gripping Anareis' shoulder with a surprisingly strong handhold, "How 'bout telling Rose and me – I'm the Doctor, by the way – where our friend is."

It wasn't a question.

Anareis took a quick assessment of her standing. Pedestrians passed by, not paying any mind to the threesome. She winced as the hold on her shoulder tightened; a muscle in the Doctor's jaw twitched. Anareis could read people better than most, and she knew that this newcomer wasn't someone to try and cross.

"Alright," she conceded. Her body sagged under the Doctor's firm grip. "But not here."

* * *

There was a restaurant down the street that Anareis was familiar with. Sometimes she would pay for her meal; more often than not, she ended up snatching what looked good and making off with it before anyone noticed. All the Doctor had to do, though, was fish out a worn wallet and stuff it in one of the waiter's faces. Next thing Anareis knew, she and the couple were being seated at one of the finest tables in the restaurant.

She took a deep breath, ready and waiting to get the conversation done and over with. The Doctor and Rose, however, seemed to be more interested in the side servings displayed on their menus.

"What's 'mashed plattalus'?" Rose wanted to know. The Doctor glanced over at her menu.

"Oh, that," he stated, examining the picture. "I wouldn't recommend it. Has a weird aftertaste…kinda like slimy macaroni."

"Well, it certainly doesn't look appetizing," Rose noted, flipping her menu over. "It looks like a mashed-up purple squash."

The Doctor chuckled at this statement. Anareis shook her head.

"What's 'macaroni'?" she asked. Curiosity was overcoming her initial coldness, although she still kept the façade of indifference.

"Not important," the Doctor replied curtly. He set his menu down and leaned across the table. In spite of herself, Anareis bent forward as well.

"We're here to talk about Jack," the Doctor continued. He fixed her with that same stormy stare that he had given her on the street. "Rose and I want to know where he is, and how we can get to him."

"And who is this…Edwatte guy?" Rose butted in. The Doctor nodded his head.

"That too."

Anareis cocked an eyebrow and settled back in her chair. "You don't know who Edwatte is?"

The Doctor huffed loudly and exchanged a glance with Rose. Obviously, this question had already been posed to them.

"He's a millionaire," she rushed to elaborate, "And he's probably one of the most influential life-forms on this planet."

"That's not saying much," the Doctor pointed out. A waiter swept over to their table and placed a tray of small, brightly-colored cubes on the marble tabletop. Smiling brightly and nodding his thanks, the Doctor picked on of the cubes up and popped it into his mouth. Rose reached for a pink one, which she licked tentatively before grimacing and setting it down on her plate.

Anareis grabbed a handful of them and stuffed several into her mouth. Rose blinked, taken aback by the sudden show of hunger from their guest. The Doctor raised his eyebrows, but didn't say anything about her eating behavior.

"This is a small planet," the Doctor began, wiping his fingers on a napkin. "I haven't heard about any other prestigious figures since we arrived, so I'm assuming that you've worked for this Edwatte character before. Am I right?"

He was staring again, and Anareis wriggled uncomfortably under its intensity.

 _Tell me I'm wrong,_ he seemed to be saying.

"How did you know?" she finally asked. Instead of answering, the Doctor reached for her arm. Anareis shrunk back in her chair, but he managed to take hold of her hand. He turned it over, carefully.

"I knew 'cause of this," he said, tracing a crooked scar on her left wrist. "There are figures still legible; look."

Rose leaned over to get a better look, and for the first time she noticed a chain of random letters and numbers that had been awkwardly carved into the skin just beneath Anareis' hand. Her face twisted into a horrified sort of frown.

"That's awful," she murmured.

Anareis wrenched her arm back. "I don't need your pity," she hissed hotly, cradling her bent wrist. "That was years ago, anyway. What does that have to do with right now?"

The Doctor tilted his head and his lips pulled up into an almost-smile. "You know what, Anareis," he responded. His voice was gentle, but she could've sworn there was an underlying streak of mockery in those words. Her temper flared.

"What is it to me where your friend is?" she snapped. "Edwatte has him. I can't do anything about that!" She stood up, shoving her chair back. Let the other customers stare. Most of them had seen her face before.

"Why does Edwatte want him, though?" Rose burst out. She was standing up now, as well. The two women faced each other, daring the other to stand down first.

"Alright, you two," the Doctor broke in. Grabbing their hands, he dragged them out of the restaurant and into the bright sunlight outside. He released his hold on Rose; Anareis yanked her hand out of his grasp and shoved another colored cube into her mouth. The Doctor spun on his heel and faced her.

"Anareis," he said. "I'm giving you an offer, if you'd care to listen. I've seen those figures before. A Cryon Band."

"A Cryon Band?" Rose repeated, brows furrowing.

"A form of identification used in gangs," the Doctor recited, as if he were pulling the information out of a dictionary. "It's cut into the skin, usually on the left wrist. Your Cryon Band lets other people know that you're part of a certain gang. And as we all know, gang-members can't be trusted." The Doctor shoved his hands in his pockets and rocked back and forth on his heels.

"Something happened to your gang, because you lot usually travel in groups of two or three."

Anareis shrugged. "I'm the only one left from my organization," she said.

"What happened?" Rose asked, although she wasn't sure if she wanted to know the answer.

Anareis gave her a blank stare. "An accident happened," she explained concisely. Her monotone voice gave Rose no comfort.

"Anyway," the Doctor interrupted, attempting to steer the conversation back on-topic, "The point is, anyone can see that band. You're set apart. Everyone you ever meet will know that you, at some point in your life, were part of a gang. You will never be trusted by anyone." The Doctor crossed his arms. "No one would let a former gang-member onto their ship."

Rose glanced back and forth between the Doctor and Anareis. She knew first-hand how clever the Doctor was, but right now she was having a hard time drawing any connection between what he was saying and the immediate situation. Anareis, on the other hand, seemed to know where the conversation was going. And she most certainly didn't like it.

"You're stuck here, on this little planet," the Doctor continued, looking around. "The only person who needs your skill set is Edwatte, and what happens when he doesn't need you? What if someone else finds out about the Cryon Band?"

He let his sentences hang in the air, waiting for them to sink in. Anareis dropped her gaze to the ground, shuffling her feet. Rose's mouth formed into a little "o" as she realized what the Doctor was finally getting at.

"We can help you," she said. The Doctor shot her a look, and she nodded. His form relaxed and he smiled. Then he turned to Anareis.

"Look at me," he commanded. "'Cause I'm about to give you an offer, and I want you to listen."

Anareis raised her head and fixed him with a steady stare. "Go on."

"I have a ship. Rose and I are willing to take you off this planet and take you somewhere else. Somewhere where your Cryon Band won't make a difference to anyone." He paused, then pushed on, "But you'll have to take us to Jack Harkness, first."

Anareis scrutinized his face, trying to root out any lies. But his face was honest and – ignoring the cold darkness that clouded his blue eyes – she could almost describe it as friendly. And a chance to get off Fizon once and for all was too good an opportunity to miss.

She tilted her head to the side, allowing a small smile to grace her lips for the first time since she met the Doctor and Rose.

"Alright, Doctor," she said, sticking her right hand out. "You've got yourself a deal."

The Doctor took her outstretched hand and shook it solemnly.

* * *

 **Anareis is a fun character to write. That's really all I have left to say.**


End file.
